


Our Monstrous Hearts

by Sermocinare



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, First Order Politics, Hux and Kylo are ruthless men who do ruthless things, M/M, Post-Battle of Starkiller Base, Post-Canon, Scars, Transformation, Unhappy Ending, actually appropriate use of the force, but for nefarious ends, force abomination, political machinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-11 22:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11723442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sermocinare/pseuds/Sermocinare
Summary: After the destruction of Starkiller Base, Hux tries desperately to get his career, and his life, back together. When Kylo returns from his training with Supreme Leader Snoke, Hux believes that his world might finally start to feel normal again. But Kylo is undergoing a strange and frightening transformation that threatens to throw Hux's world even more off kilter than it already is.





	Our Monstrous Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Based off an idea and the artwork of GenerallyHuxurious (creepycreepyspacewizard.tumblr.com) who is both a great artist and a wonderful person to collaborate with. The pictures are imbedded within the story, so read, feast your eyes and go visit their tumblr for more!

Hux couldn't remember when he had last slept for seven hours straight. Probably when he had been a child, but maybe not even then. Once he had started climbing the ladder of command, he had learned to survive on two or three hour naps, taken whenever his duties permitted. Nowadays, he could barely sleep at all. His defeat, his failure haunted him day and night, following him into his dreams, where he would see his beautiful machine, his life's work fall apart again and again, collapsing in on itself like a dying star and turning tens of thousands of people to nothing more than dust. Every time he woke up, panting and covered in sweat, he was sure he could hear their screams. So Hux's bed stayed cold and empty on most nights. 

He wished fervently that Ren were here to chase away the cold, to burn the dreams from his mind, but Ren was gone. When they had reached the destination Snoke had given him after they had fled Starkiller, a shuttle had been waiting for them. Ren, his wounds only half healed, had boarded it, and Hux had neither seen nor heard of him since. Snoke had always been one for secrecy, and so, much to Hux's chagrin, not even the First Order's highest-ranking general had been informed as to where their Supreme Leader actually resided. 

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose, took a sip of his rapidly cooling caf, and turned his attention back to his data pad, which was filled with bad news. Naturally, the destruction of Starkiller had emboldened the Resistance, and they were making deeper and deeper incursions into First Order territory, even managing to take two of the Order's outposts. In a way, Hux should have probably been thankful for that, seeing how it was likely the only thing that was keeping his head attached to his shoulders. It was a simple fact that he was the Order's most brilliant tactician, and in times like these, practicality had to take precedence over making an example of the man who had been responsible for the largest defeat since the destruction of the second Death Star. Despite the dark thoughts that sometimes crept out of the depths of his mind, Hux wanted to stay alive, so there could be no more failures, no more outposts lost. He would take back those territories, take back the victory that had been snatched from his grasp. He would take back his destiny, and if he had to burn down half the galaxy to do it.

–

It took another standard month before Hux finally got word from Ren, words he had been waiting, longing for.

Returning to Finalizer. Expect my arrival at 17:00 standard. 

Hux felt as if he had been injected with new energy. Ren was returning. He was coming home, and hopefully, he would bring good news, something, anything that would help Hux take another step towards his goal. Something that would ease the burden on his shoulders. Hux didn't doubt the latter. Ren could make him feel taller, stronger simply by being at his side. 

Of course, Hux was present in the hangar when Ren's ship arrived. For all of Ren's unpredictability, he had always been surprisingly punctual. For once, Hux was having a little bit of difficulty with schooling his face into a calm, professional expression, his mouth occasionally twitching into the ghost of a smile. 

Standing aside as the walkway descended, Hux then gave Ren a short nod: “Commander Ren. It is a pleasure to once again have you on board.”

Ren gave a nod in return: “General.”

Hux fell into stride next to Ren, his hands still crossed at the small of his back. “Has the Supreme Leader informed you of the current state of affairs?”

“He has, but not in detail. I am sure that you will be able to provide those?”

“Of course,” Hux said, permitting himself a smile. “I suggest we meet later, after you have settled in. I have, of course, kept your quarters available for you.”

“Thank you.” They stopped at an intersection, and Ren gave him a final nod: “I will call on you once I am ready for your report.”

“Please do so.” Another smile, then Hux made his way back to the command bridge, his body humming with anticipation at the thought of finally being alone with his lover again.

–

“You look different,” Hux said almost the moment Ren entered his quarters later that evening.

Ren smirked, and ran his gloved fingertips over the bottom of the scar that ran across his eye: “Really?”

“It's not just that,” Hux said, shaking his head. 

“Then what is it?”

Hux tilted his head, then gave a shrug: “It's probably because I haven't seen you for so long. Too long.”

At that, Ren stepped forward, grasping Hux's hand with his as he leaned in for a kiss. As their lips touched, Hux felt as if the world around him was shifting, finally aligning itself into the shape it should be after being off kilter for so long. 

“I missed you, too,” Ren murmured against Hux's lips, loathe to break their kiss even for a second. 

After they finally pulled apart again, Ren reached up to cup Hux's cheek: “You lost weight. And you don't sleep enough.”

Hux rolled his eyes and gave a snort: “You sound surprisingly like the mother I never knew.” He pulled away and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Ren before heaving a sigh: “While you were away, I tried to salvage what was left of my career, and make sure we don't lose even more than we already did.”

Ren sat down next to him and folded his hands in his lap. For a while, neither of them spoke. It didn't feel like the comfortable silence they had often shared before, both of them waiting for the other to break the lull in conversation and dispel the cloud that seemed to be hanging over them.

It was Ren who finally spoke: “The Supreme Leader brought me closer to the Force. I honed and increased my skills, to be able to serve him better. To be the most powerful weapon in his, our conquest.”

Hux pressed his lips together in a tight frown before giving a single, hollow laugh: “Now if only he had given you a second Starkiller.”

“Hux.”

There was both pain and a warning in that one short word, and Hux took a deep breath before releasing it, sagging in on himself as he exhaled: “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dismiss all that you've done, and the hardship you've undoubtedly gone through.” He shook his head and finally looked at the man sitting next to him: “I'm tired. So, so tired. I don't know how long I can keep going on like this.”

Hux's last words sounded almost like a plea, and Ren reached up to cup his cheek before pulling Hux against him, his arms encircling Hux's diminished frame. 

“It's all right. I left you alone with this, with all the chaos and devastation. But I'm here again. Together, nothing can stop us. Not the Resistance, not Skywalker, nothing. You'll get back to your rightful place in the Order.”

Hux sighed, nuzzling into the crook of Ren's neck: “I wish I could believe that.”

“I'll make you believe, Hux. I will show you, and you'll believe.”

Hux pressed his lips against Ren's neck, searching for Ren's pulse point. Once he had found it, he latched on to it, sucking the warm, soft skin until he was sure he had left his mark. Pulling back, he fixed Ren's gaze with his own: “Right now, what I want is for you to make me believe that you're actually here. That I have you back.”

Ren gave him a slow grin: “And how do you suggest I do that?” 

“Fuck me. Fuck me until I scream your name, until I can't think of anything but you.”

Hux's words should have had Ren tearing off Hux's uniform with his teeth, but instead, Ren's eyes went soft, and for a moment, Hux felt like he couldn't breathe under the weight of the love he could see there. 

Leaning in, Ren cupped the back of Hux's head, holding him in place while he kissed him deeply, his free hand nestling around at the fastening of Hux's tunic until he had finally pried it open.

“Out of practice, are we?” Hux said with a grin. “Usually, you have that off in seconds.”

For a moment, Hux was sure he saw a flash of something that looked like fear in Ren's eyes, but then Ren chuckled, the sound rumbling low in his chest: “I guess I'll have to practice every day, then, until I'm up to my General's standards again.”

“Or you could just take off those gloves.”

“How about you shut up and get out of the rest of your clothes, if you're so worried that I won't be quick enough,” Ren purred. His lips twitched into a smirk: “Needy thing.”

Hux laughed: “Not all of us can channel their pent up lust into the Force. Do you have any idea how often I've sat here, completely frustrated that my fingers have nothing on your cock?”

“Kriff, Hux, I've missed you and that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Oh, I bet,” Hux chuckled, nipping at Ren's lower lip, “especially my mouth.”

With that, he grabbed Ren's wrist, pulling Ren's hand towards his lips and letting two of the leather-clad fingers slide into his mouth, sucking them with a moan that was positively obscene. Letting them slide from between his lips again, Hux then gripped the wet leather and pulled the glove from Ren's fingers. 

The sight of what lay beneath made Hux's breath catch in his throat, his lust immediately forgotten. Claws. Instead of fingernails, there were claws curving down over Ren's fingertips, black and shiny and vicious. 

Hux drew back immediately, his gaze fixed on Ren's hand: “What happened to your hands? Kylo, what is that?”

Ren turned his head away, unable to meet Hux's eyes, which were wide with shock. When he spoke his voice was trembling: “The Force.”

“The Force?” Hux shook his head, incredulous, unbelieving. “How?”

Ren smiled, but it was a sad, fleeting smile: “The Force is everywhere. It surrounds us, flows through us, shapes us, and sometimes, it re-shapes someone. It's rare, but not unheard of. Especially with those who follow the path I do. The deeper you delve into the mysteries of the Force, the more you learn to control it, the higher the risk that it might control some aspects of you in return.”

“I see.” 

Hux couldn't see, though, couldn't understand, and he knew that that had always been a source of tension between them. Then again, Hux had the distinct feeling that in this particular case, Ren didn't fully understand either, and in that moment, he made his decision. He might not understand, but that didn't mean he would leave Ren to deal with this all alone.

Ren drew a deep breath: “If you don't-”

He didn't get any further, though, before Hux took his lover's hand in his own, pulling it towards him, and ran a fingertip over one of the claws. They felt perfectly smooth, cool to the touch, the points sharp enough that they could break a person's skin.

Looking into Ren's deep, dark eyes, Hux lifted the hand to his face and laid it against his cheek. Then, he smiled: “Just try to not leave any permanent scars.”

Ren smiled back: “I will.”

They kissed, and when Hux pulled back, breathless, his smile had turned into a wicked grin: “I'm going to miss having those thick, long fingers up my ass. I guess we all have to pay our price to bring the First Order to victory.”

“Oh, poor Hux,” Ren chuckled, gently running the tips of his claws down Hux's spine, making him shiver. “Good thing I have something else I can put into you. And since you'll have to do it yourself from now on anyway, how about you put on a little show for me when you prepare yourself?”

Hux leaned in to give Ren's earlobe a short nip, then purred: “Gladly.”

The gentleness with which Ren was touching him, carefully holding his hips as Hux finally let himself sink down on Ren's cock was unprecedented, and in a way, it irritated Hux. They had never been gentle with each other, not even at the start. It just wasn't not how they did things. Even though they loved each other, they never made love, they fucked, and Hux was not about to let that change. Not now, not when he needed things to be normal, or as normal as they could be.

Holding Ren's gaze with his own, Hux put his hands over the clawed fingers curving around his hips and pushed them down until he felt the sting of the tips breaking his skin. It hurt, but at the same time, it felt good, right, and he arched his back with a hiss. 

Ren was trying to pull away, but Hux held him there, snarling down at the other man: “Don't treat me like some fragile thing that's going to faint at a little pain and blood. It's insulting. You know I can take whatever you can give.”

For a moment, it looked as if Ren was going to protest, but then his mouth curved into a smile: “All right. You better start moving, then.”

The claws dug just a tiny bit deeper, and Hux gladly followed Ren's suggestion.

Afterwards, resting his head on Ren's broad chest, Hux reached back and gingerly ran his fingers over the scratches Ren had left on his hips and thighs. Touching them hurt, and he gave a short hiss of pain. When he pulled his hand back, he could see a trace of blood on his fingertips.

Ren frowned and stroked Hux's back, careful to not touch the skin with the points of his claws, and pressed a soft kiss to Hux's forehead: “I'm sorry.”

Hux gave a half-shrug: “It's nothing a little bacta won't heal. And I asked you to, remember?”

Ren gave an affirmative grunt, then carefully laid Hux's head on his shoulder: “Sometimes, I'm not sure you know what it is you're asking for. I should have said no.”

“As if you could ever refuse me,” Hux chuckled, and nuzzled into Ren's neck. 

“True,” Ren chuckled, kissing Hux's hair. “In here, like this, I'm yours.”

“As am I,” Hux replied with a contented sigh, letting his fingers ghost over Ren's arm and down to his hands. Then, he lifted himself up a bit so that he could look Ren in the eyes: “Write your name into my skin.”

Ren blinked, confused and a little taken aback: “What? You can't be serious.”

“I am quite serious, Kylo. Please. Indulge me.”

“You are a very, very strange man, you know that?” Ren shook his head, but he was smiling. “You do realize what could happen if people were to see that, do you?”

Hux frowned, resting his chin on his hands: “Point. It's just... I would have liked to have a reminder of you, for those times you're away for so long again.” He blinked, looking away: “Everything just felt so wrong when you were away.”

“Oh, Hux.” Ren's kiss was filled with emotion, which was reflected in his eyes when he pulled back again: “You mean so much to me. And if this is so important to you... how about a symbol? Maybe that of the First Order? It won't be as conspicuous, but both of us will know its true meaning.”

Hux nodded.

“Sit up, then, and give me your arm.”

Hux winced a few times while Ren cut into his arm, but he didn't flinch or pull away, though he refused to watch as the symbol was etched into his skin.

Finally, Ren placed a kiss on Hux's shoulder: “There. All done. Let me get the bacta.”

While Ren made his way to the fresher, Hux twisted his head to look at his upper arm. There, on his bicep, was the symbol of the First Order, still legible through the blood that was slowly seeping from the fine scratches. Hux smiled.

“Happy?” The mattress dipped as Ren sat down next to him again, gently patting down the wound before slathering it in bacta. 

“Yes. Thank you.” Then, Hux yawned, hit by a sudden wave of utter exhaustion. “Kriff,” he chuckled, “I really need some sleep.”

Ren laid back, opening his arms to Hux: “Come here, then.”

As soon as Hux was curled up against his chest, Ren pulled the covers up over them, and it didn't take long for Hux to fall asleep, warm and content, the small wounds already forgotten and his mind finally at peace.

Hux started believing in Ren's words of them being unstoppable after seeing Ren on the battlefield.

Of course, Hux had seen the old holos of Vader striding through the ranks of his enemies as if nothing could harm him, deflecting blaster bolts with his lightsaber and breaking men's spines with the flick of a wrist. Every man, woman and child in the First Order had seen them, along with other propaganda pieces depicting the glorious Imperial fleet in battle. As a child, Hux had watched with wide eyes, enraptured, and dreamed of being like them one day, as courageous as Vader and as brilliant as Grand Moff Tarkin.

Age and experience had killed those childish notions. Great men didn't win battles. Superior weapons, tactics and soldiers did. Vader and Tarkin had not been able to save the Empire. Instead, the Empire had been defeated and driven to the very edges of known space. Of course, Hux had never voiced those thoughts, since part of him recognized them as dangerous heresy, but he knew deep in his bones that one reason for the Empire's defeat had been that everyone had believed, had put their faith in those larger than life figures and that they would keep the Empire and its citizens safe. What a foolish idea that had been. 

Ren made him believe in the importance of great men again. Watching old holos was one thing, actually being there and watching one man deal more death than a whole squadron of troopers was an entirely different matter. Hux had never been much of a fighter, preferring to deal with the theoretical aspects of warfare rather than with the chaos and destruction that happened on the ground, but had thought it prudent to occasionally be present in person. His marksmanship was nothing exceptional, but good enough to pick off a few enemies with a blaster rifle and make himself useful that way. Seeing their General join them in battle raised the morale of his troops, and made it just a bit harder for his enemies to accuse him of cowardice. 

Naturally, Ren was markedly different from what Hux had seen of Darth Vader. Vader had been cold, someone whose mere appearance on the scene of battle could freeze the blood in your veins. Ren, on the other hand, burned hotter than a young star. He reminded Hux of a furious beast unleashed, cutting men in half with the sizzling, hissing blade of his saber, making them scream in agony as he crushed their hearts, their throats and bones. Hux had witnessed enemies drop their weapons and flee in terror when their blaster bolts were frozen in midair, only to return to whatever comrade of theirs had fired them. Sure, some enemy shots found their mark, but Ren seemed to be able to simply shrug them off, sometimes not even staggering in his wide steps when he took a blast. 

It took Hux a while to discover why. 

Their duties were keeping them apart more than either of them liked, but even though it had never been said, it had been clear since day one that duty would always come first. Despite Ren's return having improved the overall situation, both for the First Order and for Hux himself, he still had much to do if he wanted to convince the rest of high command that he was not only useful, but worthy of keeping his position in the hierarchy. So he tackled problems that weren't really his to solve and made suggestions on every topic he felt himself capable of giving insight on, all while constantly watching his back. Advancement through strategic assassination was not encouraged, but had long been silently tolerated in the First Order's military, and his position was precarious enough that no one would look too deeply into things if he met an untimely death.

Ren, on the other hand, spent most of his time training or in deep meditation, strengthening his connection to the Force and exploring its deeper mysteries, determined to increase his powers and thereby the ways he could help the Order gain victory. 

Hux was idly tracing the contours of Ren's chest as they both lay in bed, exhausted and content, when his fingers ghosted over one of the many scars Ren carried. Something about it felt strange. Somehow unfamiliar, even though Hux knew Ren's body almost as well as his own. 

Pushing himself up a little more, Hux looked at the scar he had been tracing, his brow knitting.

“What's wrong, Hux?”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, and it's possible I am,” the last bit got a chuckle from Ren, and Hux gave him an annoyed look before continuing in his musings, “but are your scars... expanding?” He tapped the slightly raised flesh: “It feels harder, too.”

Ren gave a shrug, but didn't look at Hux when he answered: “Could be. Scars do that, sometimes.”

“Hm.”

Hux wasn't entirely convinced, but for now, he was content to let it go, going back to caressing the body of the man he loved.

–

“Huh.”

There was something about the tone of that noise that made Hux look up from the holo of their most recent plantside battle and regard Captain Phasma with a raised eyebrow. The Captain's mouth had curved into a frown.

“Something the matter, Captain?”

“I'm not entirely sure, General,” Phasma stopped the holo and rotated the view slightly, then pointed at the figure of Ren, “but it almost seems like the troopers I sent along with him are... avoiding him. Not much, but still.”

Hux tilted his head, regarding the scene for a few seconds. Going over the footage of a battle with Phasma had become something of a tradition. A very useful tradition, seeing how the Captain's knowledge and input often improved Hux's future battle plans. Whatever she was seeing right now, though, was eluding him. 

“I honestly can't see anything different. I mean, it's only natural that they would fan out during battle.”

“Yes,” Phasma said, then shrugged: “It's more of an instinct than anything I can explain.”

“We will keep an eye on it, in case they need to be re-conditioned.”

This seemed to be enough for Phasma, and they let the holo continue. 

Hux watched that particular part of the holo a few times over the next few days, but whatever it was that had set off the Captain's instincts continued to elude Hux. Well, he had always been more of a rational thinker than someone who relied on gut feelings.

–

Maybe, if he had actually listened to his instincts just this once, he would have spared himself some of the shock. He should have noticed, had noticed, but he had chalked it up to exhaustion. It wouldn't have been the first time things went a bit fuzzy around the edges of his vision, so what if there was a slight shimmer to Ren's cloak, something not quite right about the way the fabric swayed when Ren moved. 

“What the pfassk is that?!”

Ren had dropped his cloak upon entering Hux's quarters, but there was still something clinging to his shoulders, something translucent that seemed not entirely part of this reality. Hux shuddered, and when Ren took a half-step towards him, he backed away, instinctively putting a chair between himself and the knight. 

Ren held up his hands, moving back again: “I'm not sure.”

“You're not sure?” Hux's voice sounded hysterical even to his own ears.

Ren shrugged slightly, the thing moving gently with the motion of his shoulders: “Another manifestation of the Force. A mirage. A part of the fabric of the universe. I don't question these things, not any more.”

Hux took a deep breath, let it out with a shudder. That thing, it was wrong, regardless of what it was, and it scared him to the bone. He had been able to deal with the physical transformations up until now, had gotten used to Ren no longer looking quite like himself, but those things had been real, tangible. Physical. Hux could deal with the physical. He could much less deal with something that wasn't even completely there. What made things even worse was that these things appeared to be moving independently of Ren's shoulders occasionally. As if they were alive, something not quite under Ren's control. 

“Hux.” Ren's voice was gentle, and there was a pleading note in it: “Hux, please, don't be afraid. There's no need to be scared, I promise. It won't hurt you.”

Hux looked down at his hands. He was clinging to the back of the chair, hard enough to make his knuckles stand out. He took another breath, willed himself to relax them. 

“Why are you so afraid? Why now? You let me touch you with my hands, you've traced my changed skin with your fingertips, so why...” 

There was a pause, a tense silence. Then, Ren spoke again, this time quiet, defeated: “It's too much. It's finally too much, isn't it. The change, my body...” Ren's voice quavered: “I understand. I... I can't expect you to do this, to put up with this forever. I don't know how much more...”

Ren swallowed, and his next words sounded so full of pain that Hux finally looked up again: “I'll leave.”

He bent down to pick up his robe, and was halfway to the door before Hux found his voice again: “No. Don't. I'm scared, yes, and I'm not sure where this, where we are going, but please don't leave.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” 

Hux stepped out from behind the chair, crossing the room until he was standing right in front of Ren. Up close, the thing looked even more disconcerting. Maybe Ren was right, maybe it was a piece of the fabric of the universe, even though it looked more like a hole into space to Hux, a shimmering door into the void. Something belonging in a dream, a nightmare. 

The rest of Ren, though, was solid and real, and Hux knew he couldn't do without it. He let his hands run over Ren's chest, over the pronounced dips and bumps of the plates that covered his abdomen until his fingers curved around Ren's waist.

Hux closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the solid armor, black against Ren's ever more graying skin: “Don't leave me. I need you.”

“I won't,” Ren murmured into his hair, “I'll be here as long as you want me to.”

“I've done some reading on the Force,” Hux said from behind his desk, which was covered in the usual clutter of pads and holographic maps. At first, the sight of this seeming chaos had surprised Ren, seeing how before Starkiller, Hux's desk had never been anything but pristine and meticulously organized. He had learned, though, through observing Hux work, that there was some kind of order to this chaos. As if Hux could ever live with actual clutter and disorganized workspaces. 

“Oh? Why the sudden interest?” 

Ren raised an eyebrow, but refrained from sitting up in the armchair he was slouching in, his long legs and clawed feet stretched out into the room in a gesture of lazy familiarity. He had removed the leg wrappings and soles that had replaced his boots when he had no longer been able to fit them, and they now lay in a careless heap on the floor. Ren had always been a bit of a slob, and all of the wrappings he had had to add to his somewhat elongated body to cover it usually ended up draped over Hux's furniture, or carelessly dropped wherever Ren had been standing as he unwound them. Not that Hux wasn't thankful that Ren still tried to keep his altered appearance hidden as much as possible. There was no predicting how the crew, or the Troopers that fought alongside Ren, would react to the changes. 

Hux shrugged: “If I'm to know how to best use you, I need to know what you can and could do.”

“Use me, hm?” The corner of Ren's mouth twitched into a sarcastic smile.

Hux rolled his eyes: “Your powers.”

“Same difference.”

“Stop being facetious.” Hux scowled, and Ren raised his hands in a placating gesture. “The texts said that you can control people's thoughts via the force. I know you've always been able to enter other people's minds and rip information from them-”

“-which makes me such a great asset with interrogations-”

“-but can you implant information, too? Could you make people think in ways they usually wouldn't?”

Ren raised his hand, silently regarding it for a while before dropping it back into his lap. “Yes,” he finally said, returning his attention to Hux, “it was one of the many things Supreme Leader Snoke taught me during my training. I haven't used this particular power yet, though. I never saw the need for it.”

“Even though it would make your life so much easier?” 

Hux had tilted his head in a way that signaled that he wasn't quite convinced, and Ren's next words come out sharper than he had intended: “Manipulating the Force, the very power that surrounds all life in the universe, isn't there to make my life easier, Hux. Not mine, and not anyone else's, either,” he added, giving Hux a warning look.

“Don't worry, what I wanted to suggest isn't frivolous, not by far. Hear me out?” Hux gave Ren a winning smile, and Ren couldn't help but smile back and nod.

Getting up from behind his desk, Hux came over to the chair Ren was sitting in and perched himself primly on its armrest, putting an arm around Ren's shoulders to steady himself. 

That little gesture might have been the reason why Ren continued to smiled up at Hux: “Go ahead.”

“We have been in negotiations with the people of Kitma for a while now. The crust of the planet contains ore the First Order sorely needs for bolstering our fleet, without which High Command thinks it's impossible to turn this war around. And I agree with them. Unfortunately, their leader is unwilling to let us go ahead with mining operations, even though we've offered terms that are beyond fair”. Hux scowled, shaking his head.

Ren, who had been absent-mindedly tracing shapes on the fabric of Hux's shirt, gave a nod: “And their reasons for refusing?”

“In its unprocessed form, the handling of said ore bears a certain health risk. They're afraid that us mining it might poison the water supplies in the areas surrounding the mines.”

Ren's eyes narrowed: “They're right, aren't they?”

“Yes. It's inevitable that dust and debris containing traces of the ore will get into the water, and probably the soil, too.”

Ren got up from the chair, almost toppling Hux off the armrest in doing so, and began pacing the room. For a while, Hux kept quiet, watching him prowl around like an agitated animal. Finally, he raised his voice, his tone pinning Ren to the spot: “This is necessary, Kylo. I wouldn't ask you to interfere, to use your powers on the woman if it wasn't. We've exhausted every other path. The First Order needs that ore, and we need it soon. We haven't got time for personal qualms here.” He gave a snort, his voice growing quieter: “And honestly, regarding what happened with the Hosnian System, this isn't worth agonizing over, don't you think?”

“This is different.”

Ren had stopped his pacing right in front of Hux, and even now, with his face showing obvious discomfort and uncertainty, there was a small part of Hux's mind, deep down where his animal instincts were buried, that felt intimidated enough that for a moment, he considered backing down. Even before he had started to change, Ren had always cut an imposing figure. Now, with the skin of his shoulders and chest having thickened and hardened into something reminiscent of an exoskeleton and looming over Hux like a bird of prey ready to strike, he looked powerful enough to break a man in half even without having to use the Force. 

Hux would be caught dead before he backed down, though: “Different, hm? Maybe because this time, it would be you pressing the proverbial button? Don't worry yourself with that. You would be doing it on my command, after all. Your conscience can rest easy.”

“It isn't about that.”

“Well,what is it about, then?”

“You wouldn't understand.” 

“Try me.”

After a moment of tense silence, Ren nodded: “All right. I'll do it.”

Hux smiled, reaching out to take Ren's hand: “Thank you. I shall set up a meeting telling her that we have found a way to make this work to both sides' satisfaction.”

“You should have become a politician,” Ren said with a snort. 

Standing up, Hux reached out to pat Ren's chest. The hardened plates lacked the soft give of living flesh, but Hux was trying not to be bothered too much with how inhuman Ren's body felt. “Join me for dinner? I think I've done enough work for today.”

“Not today. This will take some preparation on my side, too.”

For a moment, Hux felt stung by those words and the rejection they carried. Ren seemed to pick up on it, and reached out to stroke Hux's cheek with the back of his fingers: “After we've accomplished the mission. Promise.”

Hux nodded. He watched Ren go, then sat down at his desk again. He might as well go back to work himself.

–

The negotiations had been a success, the planet's negotiator agreeing to the new terms Hux suggested. The First Order's mining ships had already been waiting on the margins, and touched down on the surface just hours after the deal had been signed. Soon, the shipyards would be working at full capacity again, and all thanks to Hux's unrelenting efforts. Hux had felt some of the ever-present, oppressive weight lift off his shoulders the moment the deal had been signed, and had insisted that Ren join him for a little celebration in his quarters. 

Hux grimaced as he lifted himself off the mattress, gritting his teeth against the pain. Ren was fast asleep, exhausted from manipulating minds and, later, Hux's body. Hux had always insisted that Ren keep his Force powers out of the bedroom, but the continuing changes to Ren's body had made Hux see the positives in the touch of the Force instead of that of Ren's hands. Slipping into the fresher, Hux twisted his neck to examine his back in the small mirror that hung above the washbasin. His back was covered in scratches and gouges, some deep enough that they would take days to heal, even when liberally coated with bacta. Not that he didn't already bear some scars from their couplings. A few of the fresh cuts extended around his rib cage to his chest, or down over this ass and thighs. Those, luckily, weren't as deep, else he would have had some quite painful days at his desk ahead of him. 

He would have to get rid of the sheets later. Maybe have them burned. Bloodstains were quite hard to remove. 

Slipping underneath the shower, he hissed when the warm water touched his wounds. Steadying himself with a hand against the wall, Hux waited until the pain lessened, watching the water run down the drain, at first stained with a pinkish hue, then clearing as the dried blood was washed away. 

He hadn't even really noticed it during the act. The pleasure and pain had woven around and into each other, and he had been too busy chasing his release to worry about just how deep Ren's claws were cutting. 

Or, maybe, a treacherous voice in his mind said, you didn't care because he didn't want you to. Hux shook his head, sending droplets flying from his hair. Ridiculous. Ren had said that this power wasn't something to be used lightly, that he wouldn't use it for frivolous purposes, and dampening his partner's perception of pain definitely fell under the definition of frivolous. No. It had simply felt too good to finally be inside Ren again after so many days, weeks of being too busy for sex. 

As if Ren needed to use some Jedi mind trick to get him into bed, or keep him there. Ridiculous. 

Hux stayed underneath the warm spray for a while, letting it wash away the tension in his muscles before finally shutting the water off and carefully toweling himself down, taking care to only gently pat at the torn skin. 

He was still rubbing his hair dry when he left the fresher and went back to the bedroom. Ren was gone. 

Hux peeked into the other room, but there was no sign of Ren there, either. Ah, well. That way, he had some peace and quiet to drink a cup of caf and simply bask in his success for a little while. Hux glanced at the bed again, frowning. Yes, he would definitely have to get rid of the sheets.

–

Personally, Hux found displays of violence like these rather distasteful. Intimidation through military might was usually a lot more effective, but well, propaganda did serve its purpose, and it was time that the population of those planets that fell under the rule of the First Order were reminded of the price of betrayal. Harboring the Resistance, welcoming and even helping them was not something that should go unpunished.

Hux had made his speech, decrying the disloyalty and reminding everyone of how the First Order, the fate of the whole galaxy depended on each and every one of its loyal citizens, and now it was time for Ren to show the consequences that awaited those who went against it. They had discussed the idea of Ren dispersing with what both of them had come to call his costume, but in the end, the chance that it might distract, possibly even scare their own troops as much as it would put fear in the heart of the prisoners and everyone who was watching was too much of a risk to take. 

Not that it wasn't noticeable that something was off with the Master of the Knights of Ren, Hux mused as he watched Ren walk up and down the row of prisoners. He had gotten taller and was walking with a stoop, and his steps were no longer smooth and even. He reminded Hux a little of a flightless bird. Or maybe an AT-ST walker? No, the movements were still too organic for that. 

He was pulled out of his train of thought by the humming and sizzling of Ren's lightsaber being activated. The first three prisoners fell to the ground in a matter of seconds, decapitated or speared by the vicious weapon. There was another loud hum, and then near silence as Ren turned the saber off again.

Hux almost felt sorry for the rest of the prisoners. One or two of them even smiled, doubtlessly thinking that their lives had been spared. Their hopes were crushed as Ren lifted one of them into the air with a short gesture, then snapped the man's neck and let him fall to the ground again. 

Then, the whole remaining row of prisoners started choking, wailing and doubling over at the same time, and Hux's spine stiffened, his eyes going wide. While he had watched Ren dispense of enemies via the Force one by one in quick succession before, he had never witnessed this, had never seen Ren kill so many people at once. 

Seven. Seven people, clawing at their throats and chests, trying to pull away the invisible force that was keeping them from drawing breath, was slowly squeezing the life out of them. The air was filled with gasps and whimpers, until one by one, their bodies toppled over.

It was after the sixth one died that Hux heard the ripping of seams and leather.

Ren's fingers, which were still gripping the air in front of him, were elongating, splitting the material of his gloves, his black claws emerging from the frayed tips. Hux imagined he could hear the shifting of bone underneath the other noises, cracking and rearranging themselves as they grew, and he dug his fingers into his palms to keep himself from visibly shuddering. 

Around him, he could see Troopers tightening their grip on their weapons, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. One or two even took a half-step backwards. He would have to deal with those later. 

The last prisoner fell to the ground. Ren relaxed his fingers, then turned and calmly walked back towards Hux, pulling the tattered remains of his gloves from his fingers.

“I guess it's time I stopped wearing these,” he said in a low voice as he carelessly dropped the shredded leather to the ground. “Are you going to make another speech? Or do you think we brought the point across?”

Hux swallowed: “No. I think this has been quite enough.”

Ren stalked off into the direction of his shuttle, and after a few seconds, Hux followed. He could already feel a headache building behind his temples when he thought about having to explain this to the rest of high command. 

Hux stood on the bridge of the Finalizer, looking out through the transparisteel windows that gave him a panorama view of the vast blackness beyond. Somewhere outside of his view, an orange sun blazed, casting light on the hulls of five recently built star destroyers. His star destroyers. He had considered himself lucky when he hadn't been stripped him of his command of the Finalizer after his failure, but the other ships he used to command had all been taken away. Now, he had something even better: command of the first five new destroyers that had been built using the resources he had secured. His light was rising again, thanks to a number of well-calculated decisions. Soon, he would be back to where he had once been: in command of the First Order's entire troops. It was the position he had been born to hold, had worked so hard to achieve. 

A soft clicking sound, accompanied by a sudden change in the bearing of those around him, alerted him to his co-commander stalking down the metal walkway towards him. Even though it had been a while since Ren had given up on trying to fit his clawed feet into something even vaguely resembling boots, Hux's crew was still disturbed, even frightened by the sight of the knight. Which was entirely understandable, if a little annoying, seeing that he often had to repeat himself quite firmly when it came to ordering people to work alongside Ren. It was a good thing they didn't know what was hidden away beneath Ren's robes. Hux's steadily improving career didn't need a sudden, dramatic rise in desertions. 

“You seem pleased with yourself,” Ren's voice rasped next to him. 

Hux half-turned to look at Ren in the cold light of the bridge.

Nowadays, Ren didn't wear his signature helmet any longer. Not that it would have fit him. In fact, Hux mused, Ren's face had taken on some semblance to the mask he used to wear. He still wrapped himself in his robes, but the way they fell around his frame betrayed some of the other changes that his body had undergone. Only Hux knew just how emaciated Ren truly looked underneath them, his once bulky mass having been replaced by coiled, sinewy muscle protected by a row of exoskeletal plates. Ren's body now reminded Hux of a half-starved predator, something that would look more at home in a dark forest than on the bridge of a starship.

“And why shouldn't I be?” Hux finally replied. “The First Order is regaining the territories we lost after the destruction of Starkiller. We're pushing the Republic into the defensive once more. I would say that is reason enough to be pleased.”

Ren dropped his voice: “You've been avoiding me.”

“I've been busy.”

“I guess we both have. Still, I would like to speak to you. In private.”

Hux frowned: “I'm not sure I have the time today, Ren. I have a few holo conferences scheduled, there are plans that need to be finalized, important offensives against some of the resistance strongholds that have been established in the outer reaches of what used to be our territory.”

Ren's jaw clenched, and Hux imagined he could hear the other man grind his teeth in barely concealed anger. Then, Ren seemed to regain control over himself with a deep breath, pinning Hux with his gaze: “You will make the time.”

Hux nodded: “I will make the time.”

“Good.” Ren nodded, then turned around, the eerie shape of his half-translucent cape wavering like the flap of dark wings.

Hux would make the time. He had no idea how, but he would. 

He was already sitting in a chair in one of the meeting rooms when Ren arrived, ducking down to fit himself through the door. Any more of those growth spurts and Ren would start having trouble prowling some of the smaller corridors of the ship, Hux thought with a smirk. 

“What's so important that you felt the need to drag me away from my work, then?”

“You've been avoiding me for the last three weeks.” 

It wasn't even an accusation, just a simple statement of fact. 

Hux shrugged: “I've been busy. The new ships, and just two days ago we re-took -”

Ren cut him off with a small gesture: “Let's disperse with the excuses, shall we? Neither of us has the time for charades. Like you said, we're both very busy, and I think we owe each other the small respect of being honest for once.”

Hux gave a curt nod, and Ren went on, in a voice that was surprisingly small and vulnerable for someone whose mere sight had made people freeze in terror: “We're over, aren't we? It's gone.”

Hux let his gaze drop to the table, one of his gloved fingers worrying over the glass surface. He had tried. Tried to love Ren even through the changes, to focus on the things that had drawn him to Ren beyond the merely physical, and for a while, he had succeeded. Even after sex had been made impossible due to the changes in Ren's body, they had simply enjoyed the other's company, talked and shared their thoughts, dreams...

“Mostly your dreams, Hux.”

Hux looked up, startled out of the train of his thoughts by Ren's voice. He narrowed his eyes at Ren: “I thought I'd asked you to -”

“- not pry. I know. But I think I can be forgiven for wanting to know what you're really thinking, since you've gotten into the habit of not sharing your thoughts with me. And when you do, I'm never sure if you're telling the truth, or just making up a convenient excuse.” Ren shook his head: “I'm not the only one who's changed.”

Hux bit his lip, his gaze returning to the table. Had he really changed that much? His drive, his ambition to rise to the top of the First Order’s hierarchy had always been a defining aspect of his personality. He had sacrificed a lot for it. A private life, a family, the basic connections that other people shared. Then, Ren had come into his life, and Hux had seen something in the knight that he had never seen before. A kindred spirit, someone who understood the need to carve his name across the galaxy. They had been brilliant together, even when seemingly at odds. Their fights had been challenges that caused both of them to rise to new heights, and when they were working together, they had been unstoppable. 

But most importantly, Ren had been his home. A place of solace in a world that knew no mercy, his calm at the center of the storm. The only one who could stop him from thinking, planning, worrying for a while, who could make him feel like nothing mattered than what was happening right in that moment. That nothing mattered but them.

The change had ripped that away. Now, every time he looked at Ren, he was reminded of what he had gone through. All the pain, the defeat, the struggle to hold on to what was left. He had struggled to hold on to Ren, to what they had had before everything changed, before Ren changed. That thing standing in front of him, it wasn't his Ren any more. 

Hux finally looked up again, into the face he barely recognized: “I tried. I really did. And for what it's worth... I'm sorry. I really am.”

“I know.” Ren sighed, giving Hux a small, sad smile: “I'm sorry, too. I would have spared us all of this, had I been able to, but it wasn't my design.”

“I know.”

Silence stretched between them, deep and wide, with neither of them able to cross it. 

Finally, Ren turned, slowly making his way to the door. Reaching it, he stopped, shifting as if he wanted to turn around, maybe say something, and for a second Hux wanted to jump up and stop him from leaving.

After the door had slid shut behind Ren, Hux took a deep breath, then slumped forward, leaning his face into his hands, shutting out the world that felt like it was once again falling apart around him just as he had built it up again. 

He had no idea how long he had been sitting there like that, trying to still the maelstrom of emotions raging inside, ignoring the insistent beep of incoming communications that he couldn't bring himself to care about. Then, finally, he leaned back in his chair, rubbed his hands over his face and reached for his pad. There were important matters to attend to, matters more pressing than his personal life. The war didn't wait for anyone, not even him. He would get over it, put this loss behind him. He didn't know how, but he would find a way, like he always did.

Setting his jaw, he got up and made his way back to the bridge. 

–

The news that were reaching him through both the official and his more covert, personal channels were such that Hux allowed himself a moment of careful optimism. Things were definitely looking up. He had managed to score a few decisive hits to the Republic's communication and supply routes, and it was only a matter of time before his command would be expanded once more. He no longer had to worry about his position, or his life.

There was still so much to do, though. He had plans for constructing another weapon, smaller in scale but with a few innovations that would compensate for the loss of firepower. At the moment, he wasn't in a position to propose such an elaborate and costly endeavor, but it never hurt to think of the future. 

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to shake off the exhaustion that was beginning to fog his mind. He couldn't afford to sleep just now. He had to focus, and his sleep hadn't been restful in a while. He was dreaming of Starkiller again, of the screams, the chaos and destruction. 

For a moment, his gaze lingered on his bed, the sheets still rumpled from his last attempt at getting some rest, and he found himself wondering about what Ren was doing. Hux hadn't heard from him ever since Ren had joined the forces at the front lines of combat. There had been some intense fighting... but then again, if anything had happened, he would have heard about it. Still, Hux felt a familiar twinge in his chest, and he reached for his pad to check on the newest communications. 

Then, he stilled his hand. No. He wouldn't allow his thoughts to go down that path. Ren was no longer his concern, and he needed to disentangle himself from those thoughts and feelings. No good would come from them. 

Dragging his gaze away from his bed, Hux decided to take a short walk to the officer's mess to clear his thoughts and maybe shake off some of his exhaustion with another mug of caf, the one on his desk having gone cold a while ago.


End file.
